In the end, the mage did not choose the transfiguration technique, which was too dangerous for those who were not familiar with it, and the reckless use of it often had two bad consequences.

One is that Transfiguration pauses unexpectedly during the metamorphosis, which can come from external interference, such as a stone that happens to hit the jawbone, or a sneak attack by an enemy. This will bring the caster's transformation to an abrupt halt, and they will become half-human, half-beast deformities. However, unlike the wolfwalkers, a species that can arbitrarily adjust the proportions between wolf and human forms, victims of interrupted transfiguration often have various problems due to the mismatch between the deformed parts and the human parts, ranging from the loss of deformed limbs to organ failure and death.

In addition, it is worth mentioning that this is not just an accident, some half-bucket casters will be eager to try spells they don't understand, which makes them always ignore the order of Transfiguration and prematurely change their throat or head that is still chanting spells. This is tantamount to interrupting the casting of Transfiguration on its own, and the results are often fatal.

If the first bad ending of casting Transfiguration is terrifying enough, what really makes most people, including Cheese, shy away from this spell is the second effect it can cause, oblivion. Oblivion here does not mean that the caster forgets things during the metamorphosis, but rather that an overly perfect transfiguration will cause the recipient to be completely magically formed, along with their brains and minds. As we all know, human thoughts are not something that the heads of birds or fish can carry, and they quickly lose their memory, feel lost, lose their ability to speak, and finally become what they have become.

According to the spell book written by the Lord of the Gray Tower, as long as the second scenario occurs for more than three months, the transformed creature can no longer untransform, and the longer the spell is unresolved, the more human characteristics the recipient will lose after the spell is removed. Most of the mortals who were used as test subjects by cruel wizards were death row prisoners from prison, reinstated after being turned into frogs for a month, but still retained the habit of hunting flies, and they always claimed that their tongues were longer than they looked and sticky.

Cheese is not in a safe position right now, and he doesn't want to risk forgetting who he is. Both of these side effects are undesirable for mages. However, he did need to get back to Vale quickly, so he took a different approach. Since you can't turn into a fish, you can use the waterway instead, such as by boat.

Having said that, where to find a boat? Not to mention that this is not the time when the Dragon's Blood Creek is full of water, and it is difficult for ordinary boats to pass through the rough shoals of the troubled times. The mage sank for a few seconds before seeing the leaves drifting down the river from upstream. The boat doesn't have to look good, does it? It just needs to be able to carry itself to Vale. Thinking of this, an idea came to Cheese's mind. He beckoned to the woods behind him, his eyes bursting with intense magical brilliance.

It's not difficult to control small things with magic, and mages will always use such small tricks to inadvertently make ordinary people realize the difference between the two. However, when the quantity and quality of objects to be controlled increase, this operation is not simple. Legend has it that there is a group of beings on the continent who can influence foreign objects with their own minds, and they are better at this. However, since the objects to be controlled this time are only leaves, although there are more of them, Cheese believes that he can still challenge it.

"Please, before I get the ship out, you guys have a truce in my head. Cheese spread his arms, and the leaves whizzed behind him, curling on the surface of the river to form a platform large enough for one to settle on. But this is obviously not enough, they only have a shape, and they can't really carry the weight of a person. The mage tried to use the branches to strengthen his ship, but found that his magic was not enough to control the weighty branches, so he had no choice but to resort to a more dangerous method.

Magic, surging. Perhaps because of the effect of the cold water, Cheese felt that his headache was not as severe as before. He smiled wryly, leaned down and placed his right hand on the leaves, and the ring of thorns from Kolandi began to twist rapidly, as the thorny vines drank the mage's blood for the first time in a long time, making the ached cheese's face even paler. "Come on, baby, come on. The mage said to his ring as if he were a small animal, hoping that it would no longer take his life.

Fortunately, the thorn is not greedy, it quickly spreads its branches and leaves after receiving nutrients, and the thin vines swim between the leaves like small green snakes, integrating the whole platform together like a sewing needle guided by a dexterous tailor. The job took cheese about six hundred heartbeats, and the thorn stopped wriggling as he began to bite his lip to force himself to persevere. The mage let out a sigh of relief, but the platform began to drift naturally with the current after losing his control.

"Wait!" Cheese couldn't care about his mental fatigue, he couldn't let the float that had been so hard to make it go away. The mage stood up as best he could, and leaped in a few steps, his feet hitting the center of the platform, but the soft sinking that followed made him realize that his previous assumption was too wishful thinking. The leaves, even though woven by vines, were not enough to support his weight.

"Damn!" he said, closing his eyes and waiting for the river to bring his submerged cheese, and before he could say this, he planted it in a wrap of leaves. But after a few seconds, the imagined cold and damp feeling did not appear. I mean, although the temperature of the river is transmitted through the leaves, it is not so cold yet. The bewildered mage got up from the leaves, and he saw that the pontoon was indeed on the verge of sinking, but the river did not come up through the gaps in the leaves.

The pure joyful laughter of "hee-hee-hee" answered the cheese's doubts. The little ones, which can only be seen in the vision of magic, dance beside the mage's leaf creation, and they clearly love this strange thing. Cheese recognized them, natural goblins, and with an indescribable sense of familiarity he seemed to have thought of something.

"You, the elves that Migo and I last saw at the source of Dragon's Blood Creek?" replied with another burst of joyful laughter. It's hard to keep a sad state of mind with goblins, and just looking at these beings is enough to make the sick forget about their suffering. The headache is even more weakened.